Flames
by terrified
Summary: A one-shot. In the midst of a mission gone slightly awry, Merlin is briefly reacquainted with a figure from his past, only to lose that acquaintance as soon as it is made.


**_A/N: _**_Riding on the wave of my newest obsession, Merlin from Kingsman: The Secret Service, I borrowed an OC (Well, the idea of her anyway) and brought her into this story as a sort of covert, but established love interest. Not the happiest story, but you know, I imagine this would be the reality of love in the Kingsman world. It would end in death, either way. Anyway, if you've given this a chance and read this, I thank you from the bottom of my heart! I hope it sort of made sense, and you could feel the sentiment I am trying to convey. x_

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**Flames**

They had no other choice. They were falling in mid-air, getting faster and faster as they reached lower and lower altitudes. He caught sight of her, and she, of him. She smiled, and it made him. Trust her to smile at a time like this. He would have very much liked to revel a little more in that smirk of hers, but there was a bomb to catch at hand.

"Blast these new technologies," he cursed under his breath. A most ironic thing for someone like him to say. Was not hisprimary role in the service that of _new technologies_? Had he more time to afford, he would have thrown his head back and had a good laugh. He did not have that luxury, however, and so averted his gaze from the agent who flew down beside him, to focus on the small ball of gold that had been deployed ahead of them.

It was code-named _Irony Henry_, the bomb. In his surveillance of their enemy's research development, he discovered its name was coined in jest because its design had been based on the golden ball belonging to the princess in the famous Grimm's fairytale _The Frog Prince_, or, less commonly known as, _Iron Henry_.

It was no bigger than a grapefruit, perfectly spherical, smooth and golden. The _Iron Henry _could have been placed on a mantlepiece and no one would have ever guessed how lethal it was intended to be. Gone were the days of large, clumsy bombs that ravaged whole cities. Here was one much smaller, sleeker, but could desecrate whole countries upon impact. This explained why the plan was to keep the bomb up in the air, and to have it detonated away from the cities below, reducing the blast impact altogether.

However, the plan had gone awry. They had moved to hijack the aircraft that carried it, only to realise the bomb had already been deployed, silently and stealthily without any of their radars picking it up. They now had to retrieve it old-school style - by hand, and with only their eyes for navigation.

Now, as he free-fell down to catch this golden ball that was no plaything, her arrival had been unexpected. However, it had been very welcome. When he saw her, clad in the same black outfit he was in, zooming past him through the sky, he had a momentary flashback to when they had been trainees together. She was always, _always_ faster in the sky. She had joked that it was her ponytail that gave her a distinct aerodynamic advantage over his absence of hair. Whether it was true or not, he was glad she was faster.

She shot past him like a perfectly released arrow, aiming straight for the little speck ahead of them. The speck shone like diamond against gravel, mercilessly reflecting all of the midday sun behind them.

"I'm almost there!" she yelled into the comms device in her collar.  
"10 minutes before it detonates, you'll make it!" he replied.  
"We'll see," she said, chuckling as she now zeroed in on the orb just metres away from her.

With arms outstretched, she caught it perfectly, stuffing it quickly into one of her vest pockets.

"Yes! Good work!" he exclaimed, not once removing his gaze on her.

To his surprise, she manoeuvred smoothly through the air and zoomed right into him, clutching onto him.

"What are you doing?" he yelled over the air that rushed around them.  
"There's isn't enough time," she said, smiling.  
"For what? The transport is coming, you just have to dance around in the air for a bit more…"  
"Then dance with me, you bloody fool!" she remarked, laughing, before kissing him long and hard on his lips.

When their faces parted, the rush of adrenalin and emotion shot through his veins faster than their intertwined bodies spinning through the air.

"Agent, what is your position and your ETA to the transport?" came the crackly voice in their earpieces from the team up in their own aircraft.

He stared at her as he clung to her, and she to him. They had not been this close since… He did not want to think about it, not at a time like this.

"What are you doing?" he asked her once more.  
"There isn't time," she whispered, not caring if he could hear her or not. Kissing him gently beneath his ear, she shut her eyes and smiled.

With that final kiss, she released her hold from him and at the same time, released her parachute, sending her up into the air and away from him. He altered his body position, trying to stay suspended in the air for a little longer as he looked up at her ascending figure. He then gasped, when he properly took in their surroundings and calculated her bearings.

She was right. There was no time. She was too far from the transport, but too near the ground. She was never going to get picked up on time to have the bomb defused. He quickly released his parachute to buy more time in the air. Before he could call out for her once more, he heard the comms signal for her go dead as she burst into flames in the sky above him.

"Sir, sir?" the team back on the aircraft paged frantically. "Your signal is still online, are you there, Sir?"  
"Yes…" he managed weakly.

The flames seemed to keep mushrooming out in endless amber fans that blazed and blazed. He laughed bitterly when he realised he was squinting into the fireball ahead of him, as though trying to catch a glimpse of her. There was not going to be a shred of her left, what on earth was he thinking?

"Sir?" the team paged again.  
"Yeah?"  
"Are you all right, Sir?"

He contemplated cutting his parachute off. He was still far enough from the ground for it to be quick and painless. He smirked, biting on the insides of his mouth to stave off tears as he reached for his pocket knife. She would not have liked that, but it was tempting, extremely tempting.

"No," he answered at last, returning his knife as he let himself float back down, fighting every urge to take the knife back out again.


End file.
